


worn down, wrung out

by elfloversanonymous (asexuelf)



Series: Femdom Pussy Indulgence [9]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Collars, Dom Merrill (Dragon Age), Dom/sub, Elf/Elf Relationship(s), F/M, Femdom, Fluff, Kneeling, Modern Thedas, Past Abuse, Past Danarius/Fenris (Dragon Age), Sub Fenris (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21508177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/elfloversanonymous
Summary: Merrill comes home to her boy after a bad day.
Relationships: Fenris/Merrill
Series: Femdom Pussy Indulgence [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550845
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	worn down, wrung out

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be just shameless femdom smut to get me through my writers block but then no smut happened and it caught feelings... i think i'm happy with it anyways.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Merrill is having a spectacularly shit day.

Every little thing is clinging viciously under her skin, leaving her angry and frustrated and ready to drive her hand through drywall. She isn't typically an angry sort of person; she prefers to see the glass half-full - and isn't it just nice to have a glass in the first place? 

But everything from the moment she left her apartment this morning to clocking out of work has dug and dug and dug and built to a point where she is so lost in her fury that she doesn't notice she's home until her key is already in the door.

_ You're being ridiculous,  _ she tells herself. 

Yes, her favorite seasonal drink at the Starbucks near work was taken off the menu. Yes, her too-small new shoes gave her nasty blisters on the walk to work. Yes, her retail job is probably a social experiment to see how much a woman can take before she kills a customer. Not to mention this blighted headache. But that doesn't mean she can't have a positive attitude.

She steps through the doorway of her apartment and tries very, very hard to have a positive attitude.

It's much easier after the shoes are off, granted. At least sixty percent of her rage was pain-induced. Who knew sensible flats could be as painful as high heels? So, now all she needs are-

Oh. Fenris is home. 

Varric's book signing must have wrapped up early because she clocked out the  _ second _ she was able to. There's no way Fenris would beat her here otherwise.

"Hello,  _ lethallin _ ," she says.

He doesn't look up from the ground, but he smiles. And doesn't he look so pretty kneeling there to greet her, his bare knees against the wood floor and his hands open on his lap… He probably leapt from the couch just as soon as he heard her keys, just to smile demurely while he waits for her order.

He's nude and he's already got his collar on. Probably put it on as soon as he got home because he already looks comfortable in it. It's not his usual one, either, but one of the pretty ones he wears for special scenes or outings, which makes it a little harder on his throat, she thinks. It's one of her favorite accessories they own; lavender faux-leather with spiky silver studs. It's just adorable.

Maybe the glass is fuller than she thought.

It feels a bit rude to immediately go ordering him around without even asking about his day, but she needs to be sitting down, so she wastes little time in asking, "Mind bringing some Neosporin and bandaids, sweetie? I think these shoes might be legally classified as instruments of torture."

"Yes, Domina." 

Surprisingly, he crawls forward to kiss the arch of her left foot, then the right. She curls her toes into the soft rug at the door, already feeling much better. 

"If they're so painful," he says, face still low to the ground. "Then perhaps I ought to wear them."

His joke lands, and despite her lingering mood, she finds herself laughing. "I'm afraid they'd be too small for you! Your feet are much larger than mine. I think we may have to stick to nipple clamps."

Now he laughs, smiling up at her. There's something not quite right about it, something hollow, but she lets it go for the moment. "Shall I fetch those, too, Domina?"

"Maybe later. I prefer to play with pain when I'm in a better headspace. You know." She waves her hand vaguely. Keeps her from hurting him in a way either will regret.

"Yes, Domina." He kisses her foot one last time and then makes his way dutifully to the bathroom. He crawls instead of walks, which isn't the way she has him do it, but she won't argue. Too tired.

With Fenris off, Merrill turns and (finally) drops most of her things on the island in the kitchen area. The apartment is small, all one room with an adjourning bathroom, but with the way her feet ache, she's never appreciated that more than she does today. She moves to the couch and sits down close to Fenris' kneeling pad. This way, at least, he can be comfortable while he dresses her wounds and rubs her feet.

Fenris returns soon after she sits, with disinfectant and bandages. He doesn't waste time reaching up to remove her sheer stockings, pulling them off quickly but carefully with that practiced ease he so often does these things. Fenris had been trained before she met him, capable and talented in so many areas, but there were certain aspects of that training he was still  _ un- _ learning, too.

"I love you," she says. This is one of those things he needs to unlearn: the lie that he is unworthy and incapable of being loved. "I appreciate what you do for me, Fenris."

Fenris looks up at her in mild confusion, but his eyes are smiling. This time, his pleasure is honest. "Thank you, Domina. You honor me."

She doesn't say anything else, just lays her head back while he wipes the sweat and blood from the back of her foot with a disinfectant wipe. He's thorough and gentle, careful not to cause her any unnecessary pain. Finally, he liberally applies the Neosporin, before covering the entire thing with a bandaid. It's one of the good ones, the broad ones people use for  _ serious _ booboos, and it's such a comfort that she nearly falls into a nap just with his hand cupped around it.

"Domina," Fenris whispers, as if to avoid waking her. She opens her eyes to look down at him and finds him kneeling beautifully once more. "Should I fetch you some water?"

Her eyebrow twitches in realization. That's a second time now, isn't it? "Now, Fenris… What have we said about the word fetch?"

Fenris bows his head. "Yes, Domina. Should I pour you a glass of water? Bring you a Tylenol?"

Merrill hums thoughtfully. On one hand, a pretty kneeling boy giving her a foot rub sounds wonderful and she doesn't want to wait for it. On the other, she  _ does _ need something for her headache, and she can have Fenris rub her feet after the fact.

"Yes," she says finally. "But wash your hands before handling it."

He smiles that crooked little smile and kisses her knee before going to grab it. This time, he walks, but his shoulders are hunched and he seems to be trying to make himself as little as possible. When she turns to watch him go, she can see how uncomfortable he is in the tense line of his back.

Merrill turns back again and closes her eyes. She's glad he's here and she does love coming home to him kneeling, but she worries sometimes. After that awful man he was with before, she doesn't want him ever thinking he  _ has _ to do these things. He should do them because he wants to serve her, not because he's afraid of what she'll do otherwise. They've come a long way since those first scenes they shared - he's much more honest now and far less prone to flinching. Despite his progress, Merrill finds she can't help but be a little anxious.

He returns quickly enough with her water and pain reliever and she downs both. Hopefully once this headache recedes a bit, she'll be less worried. The stress of the day must really be getting to her. Fenris is a big boy - a  _ good _ boy - and he can tell her if something's wrong. She just needs to have a little more trust in him.

"Would you like me to fetch you a book?" Fenris asks. She frowns. "Or the remote? I recorded that program you wanted to see, Domina."

"Fenris…" The tone of her voice has him looking up but her expression makes him freeze. "No fetching. You're my sweet  _ lethallin _ , not my dog. Not his dog."

He bows his shoulders and hangs his head. "Yes, Domina. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry…" She sighs. She doesn't think she has the energy today for safely untangling the delicate threads of his trauma, but a lady's work is never done. "Talk to me. Tell me what you're feeling."

Fenris peeks at her through his pale hair, then immediately looks back down at the floor. He doesn't answer, just kneels there looking shamefaced.

Merrill's chest aches. "Come here,  _ ma vhenan _ . Let me hold you."

"I-" Fenris doesn't move. "Domina…"

"It's okay, Fenris. I'm not angry… I just want you to lie your head here on my lap."

And then she realizes - he can't lie his head down on her with that collar on. The spikes are like armor. He came home and he put armor on.

"Fenris," she says. "I'm just wondering, is that your only spiked collar?"

She sees his throat shudder beneath it as he swallows. Was he hoping she wouldn't notice? "Yes, Domina."

"And why have you worn it today? Have I caught cooties suddenly?"

As if the very idea offends him, Fenris' body tenses up. "...Just bad memories, Domina."

"If you don't want to be touched,  _ lethallin _ , all you have to do is say so. I'll always listen."

He leans his forehead against her knee. She thinks it's affectionate rather than apologetic, but she can't see his face. "I know, Domina." His voice sounds sad, but she can tell he believes her.

"Guess we've both had hard days, hm?"

He huffs his agreement. The breath is hot on her skin, surprisingly comforting for the moment and what it is.

They sit in silence together for a moment, Fenris breathing deeply at his place by her feet and Merrill reflecting on what to do next. She could take the collar off and have them both lie down for a nap; that sounds like a very good idea. She thinks she may be biased, though. Likely a better idea would be to just let him do what he's doing now: serving her and ignoring the feelings until they go away. Sometimes that's all you can do in the face of trauma. Just…  _ wait _ .

"Fenris," she says finally. He meets her eyes though he seems to struggle to do so. "What would you like to do?"

Fenris bites his lip. For all the cute new bratty behaviors he sometimes lets shine through, he struggles to ask for things, even when she demands it of him. She can only imagine how much harder it is when he's feeling like this.

"...Fenris? No matter what it is, you won't be punished for sharing."

"I… apologize." He averts his eyes again, but doesn't turn his face away from her this time. "I would prefer if I could just be useful right now. Close to the ground. Nothing- sexual." Something in his face shuts down and his voice wavers. "You can use me however you like, of course-"

"Fenris." She's never been good at sounding stern, especially when Fenris is hurting so terribly. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything like that. I'm not much in the mood either, if I'm being honest. I'm too achey, I think… All that walking in those awful shoes and not even with the cute little halla frappe to energize me! It's the only half-decent thing those stupid corporations do for Dalish Heritage Month and it's already off the menu."

Fenris looks bewildered, both at the subject change and at the subject. "But November isn't over yet."

"I know! Isn't that ridiculous?" Merrill huffs and slumps further against the couch. "And then some entitled shemlen decided to yell at me during work as if it was  _ my _ fault he didn't know how coupons work. And then he started shouting slurs at me! It never ends well when people start shouting slurs. Oh, I was certain I was going to be fired - or worse."

"Are you alright?" There's a hand on her knee suddenly, warm and gentle, and Fenris' eyes are so wide and green where they stare up at her in worry.

It warms Merrill to see his care. At least someone will always appreciate her. "Yes. And I didn't lose my job, thankfully. Though I did get moved from register to restocking shelves, which was  _ torture  _ on my feet. Luckily all those spankings have made my arms nice and strong-" She puffs up and flexes, making Fenris duck his head and grin. "-so it wasn't too terrible. Glass half full and all."

Fenris shakes his head in disbelief. "You are much stronger than I am. I wouldn't have been able to control myself if someone started behaving that way."

"That's why you're Varric's best guard!"

"Hah! Aveline may like a word about that." They laugh together for a moment before he shakes his head again. "Work was- normal. Mostly. One of Varric's fans shared a personal story with him and it… brought up a few of my own."

Merrill tucks a piece of hair behind his ear before she remembers. "Oh, shoot! No touching, sorry-"

He gently grabs her hand, fingers warm and strong against hers, before kissing her knuckles. "It's okay," he says against them. "This is… helping. I feel a lot better now. Thank you, Domina."

She strokes her thumb over his cheekbone. "Of course,  _ lethallin _ ." A smile begins to take residence without her meaning it to and she lets it. "I'm proud of you, you know. I think you're very strong."

With another kiss to her hand, he smiles too, bright and warm against her palm. "I don't always believe that… But thank you. I'm proud of you, too. You're amazing." He perks up then, looks her in the eye. "Do your feet still hurt?"

She blinks in surprise. "Yes, actually. It was mostly the blisters, but being on your feet all day in too-small shoes will do just awful things to your poor toes!"

"Do you… want a foot massage? Domina?"

"Oh!" She stretches out her legs like a cat, feels the stretch all the way down in her bones before putting her feet on his chest. His chest is warm and strong and she hums happily. "Yes, I really would, come to think of it. Thank you, Fenris."

"Of course. I am yours." 

And the way he says it - he looks happier than Merrill has seen him the entire time she's been home. It makes something in her chest finally fold and relax. She lays back as he gets to work digging the tension out of her sore feet and is suddenly struck by the feeling that the glass is, despite popular belief, always overflowing. It's good to be home.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
